3,200 Bells
by MissSteph22
Summary: What happened to those halcyon days, when we were carefree and your music didn't have a price? Everything was free. It's like a distant memory now, as I stand here - mayor of this town - looking at your record in a shop display. I wonder if you know...


**Hi! So, this is my first Animal Crossing fanfic. It's based on something I noticed in New Leaf, with reference to Wild World/City Folk. Hope you enjoy it!**

**P.S - I own nothing, except for the plot :)**

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I know that as a mayor, my priorities should rest on more important matters. I'm new to this job, and I can't screw up. I shouldn't get caught up in the minor details. The welfare of an entire town rests in my hands, and I don't have time to be playing games.

But this was a matter very close to my heart.

I stood there, an uncomfortable heat spreading over me. Timmy – or maybe it was Tommy – was by my side, a hopeful expression on their innocent little face. _On which I should note, their uncle was one clever raccoon._ Before me on a display case was a record. Not just any record though. Something definitely pulled me towards this one, like I somehow knew. Examining the name only confirmed my fears.

_Only Me._

That was... that was his, wasn't it? One of K.K.'s songs. Oh, that takes me back. Many, many moons ago. I can almost hear the melody waltzing away in my head, of those days when mayoral duties didn't exist...

It was one of those serene evenings in town, as a light breeze fluttered the scattered petals on the green grass. It was Saturday night, and the moon was in its full splendour. Every week, I would wait for the town clock to chime. The anticipation would near kill me. 8 o'clock. And I would run. Run like the wind, through the blossoming trees and the haphazardly planted flowers. To the museum I would go. Blathers, who was often awakening from his daytime slumber, would watch me gallop down the stairs to the only place that really mattered on a Saturday. The Roost. The illustrious smell of coffee was the first thing to hit me as I entered, but the first thing I would always see was _him._ Sitting there under a light, tuning his guitar. Like he was just waiting for his cue to play. And so hastily, I would grab a cup of coffee – with the obligatory pigeon milk – and approach the musician.

He was always so calm, so cool, so collected. Nothing ever really seemed to bother him. Mellow. Quite the charmer too. I imagine he's broken a few hearts in his lifetime. He asked me if I had any requests, and whilst normally I would be itching for him to play a favourite, this week I let him decide. I didn't know however that the song he was about to play would become my favourite. The song, to which he had given the name _Only Me, _sounded lonely. It had a certain 1950s vibe surrounding it, and I could imagine one of those men with the black, combed hair crooning it to their beloved. The way K.K. sang it though – each lyric was immersed with sorrow but with some sort of longing. Never had I been so captivated with a song he had performed to me. Never had I felt more at ease in this dimly lit underground cafe.

When he finished, it was like the world started spinning again. He gave me a free copy of the track for me to play whenever I liked, and I thanked him in return. He did this every week, and it did make me question if he even had a source of income. Surely it came from Brewster then? In response, he claimed that he didn't want his music to be priced by the industry "fat cats". No, it wanted to be free.

Free.

My reverie was interrupted by Tommy – no I definitely think it was Timmy – asking if I wanted to purchase the song. I looked at him, and he looked at me. His large eyes were inquisitive. I was definitely overcome with something, and it didn't feel pleasant. How odd it was, that one of K.K. Slider's songs ended up on the shelf at Nookling Junction. But I asked, out of curiosity.

"3,200 Bells."

Not exactly what I wanted to hear. But upon that response, all was confirmed. K.K.'s songs were for sale. His pieces that he had lovingly crafted now have a price tag stuck to them. My gut wrenched a little at the thought. This... this wasn't like him. Surely he wouldn't become a sell-out and sign away his music to some industry just like that? In saying that, I had recently heard he became a DJ. Must be moving with the times. Part of me instantly wanted to seek him out, to shout the odds, to demand an explanation for this. This wasn't right! This wasn't fair! Music like this – it was supposed to be free!

But I had to keep the peace. I am the town's mayor, after all.

Numbly, I declined the offer to pay 3,200 Bells for a record I already owned and made my way out of the store. I didn't know where to go. I could have gone home, and listened to the record. Or I could have gone back to the Town Hall to have Isabelle tell me it's time to pick another Public Works Project. I had options. It didn't really matter though, what I did, because the question would still have lingered. And so with that, I headed down to The Roost – which was now a separate establishment from the Museum. Interesting. It was nice to see that Brewster was moving onwards and upwards in the world too.

The door chimed open, and naturally the coffee was the first thing to greet me. The place was fairly new, so business wasn't quite 'booming' yet. But the relieving thing to know, was that the coffee was still as good as it always was. That wasn't why I was here though. My eyes scanned the room, knowing that around this time of day, he was likely to be around. And I was right.

There he was, perched on the end stool, sipping his coffee. Wearing those large, black-framed glasses and a beanie. It's all part of his new image now. I had come with the intention of asking him, yet somehow, the longer I looked at him, the more I couldn't. The way he sat there, gazing into his mug of coffee. Something was definitely running through his mind. Something is always running through his mind – perhaps his next song? His next mix? I don't think profit was something he was thinking of. For as long as I've known him, K.K. has always been the image of rebellion against the norm. He wouldn't conform to what he opposes. Not now. Not ever. He just wants to be liberated.

Perhaps that is something we _all_ want.

I wonder if he knows. I wonder if he's seen his music for sale, courtesy of the Nook 'Empire'. Some mysteries are better left unsolved, I guess. Deciding to brush aside the issue, I took a seat at the counter and requested for some coffee.

I would much rather spend my Bells on a cup of coffee in The Roost any day.

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**I think K.K's music is worth way more than that. It's priceless! But in reality, I actually do buy the records from Timmy and Tommy, as it does help expand the collection, but of course I also visit K.K. on Saturday nights for an acoustic performance :)**

**I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it! Feel free to tell me what you thought of it.**

**Peace, love, and COOKIES! ~ MissSteph22 x :)**


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